Once informed about the remaining time until the end, he shoved his phone inside his pocket, keeping his hand there.
Before opening the door, he peeked through the glass.
Only one person was there. A barista. She stood behind the counter, cleaning a glass with a rag. Thirty seconds later, the glass was set down, and she vanished from sight.
He inhaled, placed his hand on the door, and pushed it open.
A warm sensation washed over him the moment the door opened. His hand still on the handle, he stopped. A cold breeze grazed his back. He stood stiff, his body refusing to move. His neck turned like a clock hand, each second an unfinished motion, glancing behind him before returning toward the cafe with the same broken pace.
Minutes had passed. He didn't move.
Then, his hand let go of the door, closing behind him. The cold breeze could no longer be felt.
He looked in the general direction of where the barista stood. In a careless moment, however, his eyes slipped and dropped from the board above to hers. After that awkward exchange of eye contact, he hurriedly pulled out his phone and checked the time.
07:22
Still fiddling with his phone, his eyes glued to the screen. Every now and then, he looked up, just to see she was still watching him. After realizing he was under surveillance, he shifted his attention back to his screen.
Walking in circles while still gazing at it, a thought came to him.
What should I order—No, before that. When should I approach the counter and take my order?
I can't just stay here for all eternity. I must move. Now!
But how? Can I just go there?
No, no, no. What am I thinking? I'm the only one here.
While spiraling in his thoughts as he walked in circles, the worst outcome happened—Could also be the best? Depends how you view it.
As the woman watched the boy, overwhelmed by his inability to approach the counter, she called out to him.
"You want somethin'?" she asked in an enthusiastic tone… No, actually, she didn't. It was flat and detached from warmth.
Even though someone just directly addressed him, he didn't respond. The person who had walked inside a building where human interactions were unavoidable was undoubtedly him, and yet, he didn't sense that there was someone else there other than him.
"Hey, you ignorin' me on purpose, or what!?" Frustrated, the woman shouted loud enough to reach the boy's ears. "I'm askin' whatcha want?"
He stopped. Thoughts evaporated. No longer looking at his phone or anywhere. Though he still had his eyes open—it's just, he wasn't looking at his screen anymore, and yet, he kinda did.
He could no longer read the time or any information displayed on his screen.
A drop of sweat formed on his forehead, just about where he'd hit it when he tried to leave his apartment. Little droplets slowly trickled down his face, all the way to his chin. Warm, like the atmosphere inside. His heart pumped his blood so hard his neck started pulsating several times a second. His stomach compressed, sending a weird feeling up his body.
There was no escape; he had to approach her.
Swallowing, he put his phone back in his pocket, leaving his hand outside this time. Hesitant to turn his head, he swiped his palms against his pants and harrumphed. Then turned to look at the woman. Then the board above.
When was the last time I had coffee?
… What do I even like?
After meticulously observing it, his eyes caught two options.
Iced Espresso Orange
Iced Caramel Latte
Huh, I never heard any of that. Maybe I should try it. Though, I was never a fan of orange.
What about the other?
Latte. Hm, sounds like something I'd probably like.
He almost chooses one, but then spots something.
There's even more!
He snapped to another option.
Iced Americano
Ok, I can't even guess what this is. There are no descriptions. How am I supposed to know it?
He quickly glanced at the woman, then went back to the board.
Guess I'll ignore it then.
He was about to open his mouth when…
Wait. How do you pronounce latte?
Do I say the 'a' as in under? Maybe father?
And what about the end? Should I say it casually or not?
No, no. This isn't good. What else is here?
Searching through the options, his eyes ran over the entire board multiple times before choosing one.
Iced Black Coffee
Perfect. Let's go with this.
He looked at the woman's forehead as he said, "I would like to have a black one." His voice flowed like a river with no bumps along the way.
Does he even like black coffee? I've never seen him once say he did. Even so, what's done is done.
Just before he ordered, he saw an option for extra milk, though it was for 100 yen. So in the end, he made his order without asking for it.
Finally receiving the order, the woman looked at the boy with confusion.
"You ok?"
Huh? His eyebrows raised.
"Why you have that creepy-ass smile on your face?" She glared, pointing at him with her index finger. "You hitting on me or what?"
Hitting? In what way?
As always, the boy didn't understand it.